Grace: noun (from dictionary.com)

1. elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action.

2. a pleasing or attractive quality or endowment.

3. favor or good will.

4. a manifestation of favor, especially by a superior: It was only through the dean's grace that I wasn't expelled from school.

5. mercy; clemency; pardon: an act of grace.

My friend, Jeff, is in hospital right now getting both a feeding tube and a ventilator installed? inserted? performed? I’m not sure what the right verb is for these procedures but I do know that this is a day he has long dreaded.

Jeff has Muscular Dystrophy. I’ve come to learn there are many varieties of it. His form typically onsets at adulthood; however, ever the over-achievers, Jeff and his brother, Lawrence, started developing symptoms as children. Being such marvels of medical science they were examined by many different specialists and even featured in a medical tome or two; it was determined that what they were exhibiting was a new mutation of their form of MD. It was only when the boys were diagnosed that their mother was, too.

He’s played cello with his school orchestra at the Hollywood Bowl, sung the Carmina Burana, toured around Europe while an exchange student in Germany, Graduated Pepperdine University at 20 and was an active member in the Church of Christ, and is now an Oblate in the Order of Julian in the Episcopal Church. He was first my colleague, and now my friend. He is an unabashed Christian, a true believer, but proselytizes only in the manner in which he lives his life.

Through the  14 years or so we’ve known each other I have watched, sometimes frustrated, other times angry, always helplessly as he’s lost physical strength, the ability to sing with any power, the joy and creativity of cooking, or even the dexterity to cut his own steak (medium rare, please). His body keeps letting him down, slowing him down, yet it never brings him down.

If anything, each new and improved weakness, each encroaching indignity has been met with resolute strength, faith and grace. Oh, there have been times of deep, almost overwhelming grief, profound sorrow and frustration but, somehow he digs a little deeper and comes up with the faith and grace to accept and move on. Jeff would probably say God bestows the grace.

We’ve talked about this day once or twice over the last couple of years. He’s been struggling to breathe. Eating has become exhausting and given the choice of eating or breathing, he’s been choosing the latter, and has steadily lost weight. I keep chiding him, telling him I have several pounds I’ll happily donate but I’ve been increasingly worried. Worried by the lack of appetite when I tempt him with something yummy, some rich, gooey concoction I’ve made, worried about the diminished volume behind his voice, worried about the bluish tinge to his lips.

He dreaded this day because once an MD patient is put on a ventilator, well, he stays on one. It may further limit his ability to speak, limit his mobility, limit where and how he lives and Jeff has broken through limits all his life. This one may prove more challenging.

He got the news on Tuesday, delivered with compassion by a highly-qualified, skilled doctor experienced in MD patients. He took some time to wallow, to grieve. Then, with characteristic self-awareness, aplomb and of course, faith, took himself in hand and thought, “You’ve known this was coming for months.”

When I saw him last night, he was in good spirits, quoting Dame Julian as ever, “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well,” and another, I can’t remember who and please forgive me if I misquote it, “To all that has been, I say Thanks; to all that lies ahead, I say Yes.” That’s Jeff. Resolute and scrappy, deeply faithful and full of grace.

When I woke up this morning I was relieved to find the headache I had been carrying like ugly baggage for three days had gone, even as the sore ankle and dodgy knee came to life and said their good mornings. I’m not getting any younger, but I am still capable of learning. I thought of Jeff and what is in store for him today, thanked God for relief from the headache and even the early-morning groaning of my dodgy knee that nonetheless still carries the rest of me around. And I thought, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.